Lesson for a Reluctant Rookie
by JeanieMD
Summary: Sam decides to take a hand in Duncan Moore's career development.


Sam Swarek rarely got angry. And he was rarely afraid. He hated feeling either of those emotions, and feeling both at the same time made him sick to his stomach. He couldn't remember the last time he had felt this way, but that's what happened this afternoon as he listened to Andy on his radio. He could hear the desperation in her voice as she called over and over for her partner to come and back her up. He could picture her, trapped upstairs with a young boy as Shay Bishop, a gang leader known for his violence and ruthlessness, stood at the bottom of the stairs with a gun in his hand.

 _Where the hell is Moore? He's supposed to have her back – I know that's one of the first things McNally would have told him when she started as his training officer. Why isn't he responding? Who else is available and close enough to get there in time? Oh thank God, that's Diaz and Collins now. Sounds like they have taken him down, so Andy and the boy are safe._

Two hours later Sam watched as McNally gave Oliver the breakdown of the afternoon's events. Moore was sitting hunched over on a chair outside the staff sergeant's office. There was nothing Sam wanted more than to confront the rookie, to demand an explanation for his complete dereliction of duty. But that wasn't his place right now – he would have to wait until later, when he could get hold of this kid in private.

 _Looks like they're done – she's coming out of Oliver's office and Moore is going in. I wouldn't want to be in his shoes right now._

"Tough day?" he asked as Andy walked towards him, a defeated look on her face.

"Yeah," she replied, her voice expressionless.

"Need someone to give you a ride home?"

"That'd be great."

"Meet you at my truck in 10."

 _She looks as though she'll hardly be able to make it to the locker room, but I know exactly how she would react if I offered to go with her. She's pretty prickly about looking after herself, even when she knows there's nothing I would rather do than take care of her._

After driving Andy home – and getting the surprise of his life when Andy had given him the sweetest kisses before saying good night – Sam decided to track down Duncan Moore and have a little chat with him. He tried the Penny, then back at the station, with no success at either place. He even drove past Moore's home, but it probably wasn't a great idea to knock on that door, Sam realized, remembering that confronting the commissioner's stepson in the commissioner's home might not be the best career move. He would have to wait for a better opportunity, but this conversation was going to happen one way or another.

It was more than two months before Sam could make good on his promise to himself. Moore seemed to have disappeared from the face of the earth, and there was a lot going on at 15. The biggest development, of course, came in the aftermath of the missing person's case which had taken Sam and Andy to their fateful interview with Sam's father in prison. Never in a million years would Sam have predicted the outcome of that event. How could he have ever imagined that revealing the secrets of his past, everything he had kept so carefully hidden from Andy, would result in their getting back together in a relationship that was stronger, more solid, more satisfying than anything they had known before.

Then there was the department inquiry into Moore's suspension, and Andy's frustration and outrage at the injustice that saw her on the receiving end of the investigation, and Moore's reinstatement to active duty. One case followed another, including the satisfying takedown of a human trafficking ring, and the next time Sam heard any mention of Duncan Moore it was to learn that the hapless rookie was cuffed to the steering wheel of a bomb-rigged truck. Angry as Sam still was at Moore, it didn't seem right to drag him away for a lecture immediately after his last-second rescue.

Everything but Andy was erased from Sam's mind after the evidence-room explosion. There was no room for thoughts of anyone or anything else, consumed as Sam was with the emotions that piled one on top of another: terror, relief, and beyond all the gratitude that she was safe in his arms at the end of the day. Getting her away from everything, simply enjoying each other in the peace and quiet of Oliver's cabin, was the more important thing on Sam's mind.

Eventually they were back in the city, back at work, past the cavalcade of one crisis after another (Andy's attack, Marlo's pregnancy, the prison riot, Traci's abduction) there at last came a lull, and at the end of shift Sam sat waiting in his truck, happy in the knowledge that Andy and Traci were on a shopping excursion so he had a few hours to himself. The door opened and Duncan Moore came out alone.

 _Perfect_.

Sam rolled down the window. "Moore," he called, and Duncan's head snapped up as he looked around. "Come here," Sam said, and saw Duncan's startled reaction as he realized who had called him. "Come. Here." Sam repeated, and Duncan walked slowly towards the truck.

"Get in, Moore – you and I need to have a little talk," Sam said genially, and chuckled to himself as Duncan's eyes shifted back and forth as if looking for someone to rescue him. "Come on, buddy – we're just gonna go for a beer and a chat," Sam urged, and with a last hopeless glance around the parking lot Duncan climbed into the truck.

"What's up, Detective?" Duncan asked, and Sam grinned at him.

"Just a couple of things we need to discuss," Sam replied, pulling the truck out into the light traffic and heading in the opposite direction from the Penny.

"Where are we going?" Duncan asked nervously, and Sam grinned again.

"It's a surprise," he said and he could almost see the thoughts racing through Duncan's brain. "We're gonna find a nice quiet place where we won't be interrupted."

They drove on in silence until they finally reached a bar near the outskirts of the city. The parking lot was practically empty as Sam pulled up close to the door and motioned for Duncan to get out. "Let's get that beer," Sam said and ushered Duncan through the door.

Inside the bar it was dimly-lit and there were only a few customers; a couple of guys nursing drinks at the bar, four more hanging around the pool table, and the bartender changing the channel on the small TV that seemed to be the only entertainment. Sam pointed Duncan towards a table in the farthest corner, and headed to the bar to pick up a couple of beers.

"Here you go, Moore," Sam said in his friendliest voice as he handed one bottle to Duncan and sat down across the table. "Cheers." Sam took a healthy drink from the bottle and set it down on the stained table.

"Cheers," Duncan repeated, taking a drink and watching Sam with apprehension.

"I'm sure you're wondering what we have to discuss," Sam began, "and maybe you're a little worried that the topic might be unpleasant. Something to do with the duties and responsibilities of one partner to another. Something, perhaps, about not abandoning your partner in a life-and-death situation. Any of that crossing your mind, Moore?"

"Uh, Detective, I don't think..." Duncan began, only to be cut short by Sam's sudden response.

"Exactly. You didn't think. Or rather, you maybe thought too damn much. You were thinking, maybe, about how dangerous it might be for _you_ to walk into that house where there was an armed criminal. You were maybe _not_ thinking about the danger your partner was in, with that same armed criminal intent on getting rid of a witness who could incriminate him in a murder. Any of that sounding familiar?"

Duncan's face was pale in the harsh fluorescent light. Sam almost felt sorry for him, but he had to make so strong an impression on this kid that never again would he even come as close to betraying his sworn duty as he had on that afternoon.

"Moore, did your T.O. ever mention to you anything about one cop's obligation to another? About the simplest, most basic component of police work – that you always have your partner's back? Always – not just when it's convenient, not only when it's safe, not when you feel like it. Always."

"Yes, sir," Duncan muttered. "Of course she did, and I knew I should have gone as soon as she called me."

"Then what happened, Moore? You seem to be a decent-enough guy. What could have possibly prevented you from getting in there where you were needed, where you were supposed to be?"

Duncan looked down at his hands, wrapped around the beer bottle. He muttered something that Sam couldn't quite hear.

"What?"

Duncan lifted haunted eyes to look directly at Sam. "I was..." His voice trailed away.

"Yeah? You were what?"

"I was too scared," Duncan muttered, and immediately dropped his gaze again.

"Of course you were scared!" Sam replied. "You would be stupid not to be scared. The situation was dangerous – Andy was scared too. Any cop would be. What makes a good cop is not that he or she isn't scared – it's that they _are_ scared, but they do what they have to do anyway."

"Andy is never scared," Duncan protested. "She is the bravest person I've ever seen!"

"Yes, she is brave – I describe her as having the heart of a lion – but bravery isn't about not being afraid. It's dealing with whatever terrifying situation you find yourself in, in spite of being scared. Some people are born with courage – but some have to learn it through experience and practice."

"I don't think I can ever learn that," Duncan whispered. "I am too big a coward. Did you know that the real reason I pulled out of Fite Nite wasn't because I was injured? I was terrified when I got a look at my opponent. I thought about the pounding he would give me and I almost threw up in front of Diaz."

"Moore, buddy, that was pretty clear to anybody who saw you. That guy was a monster – I would have been scared to fight him too. So was Collins – but he stepped in to take your place, because it had to be done."

"Collins was scared? He didn't look scared."

"He'd have to be an idiot not to be scared of a guy like that, and Collins is not an idiot. Neither are you. You just haven't tested yourself enough to know what you can handle. If you want, we can work on that."

"How do you mean?"

"You must have done hand-to-hand training in the Academy. Maybe some boxing? How did you get through that part of the course?"

"Actually I had mono at the time those were scheduled, and my step-dad told the instructors that I had taken self-defence and martial-arts classes so I didn't need to make the classes up."

"And had you? Taken those classes?" Sam asked with interest.

"Well, yeah, but when I was in about Grade 5 or 6."

"So, maybe not quite as thorough training as a cop might reasonably be expected to have," Sam asked with sudden understanding. This kid's application to the Academy and his subsequent training had been – eased, you might say – by his relationship to the police commissioner.

"I guess not," Duncan agreed, shame-faced.

"Well, Moore, you and I are going to make up for some lost time. We're going to do some sparring, you and me, and I think we can get Collins to give you a brush-up course in martial arts/hand-to-hand, and I'm sure Diaz could probably make a contribution to your additional training. Those guys think an awful lot of Andy, and I'm pretty sure you know how _I_ feel about her, and none of us wants to see her in that kind of dangerous situation ever again. You are going to end up as perfect partner material or die trying."

Duncan's face went even paler, if that was possible. "Just kidding, Moore – geez! The department doesn't look too kindly on the death or dismemberment of rookies during their training and probation periods. We'll be gentle. Well no, that's a lie, but I promise you'll survive. And in the long run you'll thank me – us."

"Detective Swarek, I want to be that – a perfect partner. I know that there's a lot of people who think the only reason I got to be a cop was because of my step-dad. That's probably true, but I want that to change. I'd like people to think of me as a decent cop, a serious cop who can be relied on."

"I think we can arrange that, Moore. Now finish your beer and we'll go spend a couple of hours in the gym. You, my friend, have a date with a heavy bag."

OK, sir. That sounds good," Duncan said enthusiastically.

"You may not be entirely sure of that when you get home tonight, but it's going to get easier – eventually."

"Sir, considering what I was expecting you to do to me when you called me over to your truck tonight, I think I'm coming out way ahead of the game!"

"Actually I think so too," Sam laughed. "I had seriously considered making you disappear for good, but McNally has mellowed me some and I'm looking forward to the whole experience of whipping (you should excuse the expression) you into shape."

"Yes, sir," Duncan said with an air of relief. "That sounds just fine to me. Thank you, sir."

"Don't thank me yet, Moore – not yet," replied Sam as they got into the truck and headed back to 15.


End file.
